Good news for people who like bad news.

The love of my life

Valentine’s Day used to be among the crappiest, most contrived of holidays for me. That is, until I met Paula.

It’s been seven Valentines Days since we met as a result of a personal ad I placed in the Baltimore City Paper as my aunt suggested. I was working from home, dealing with the fallout of the end of my first marriage, and felt like I’d never find anyone with whom I could have a relationship of any kind.

She responded, and we talked on the phone…and talked…and talked. So, we planned a first date. For New Year’s Eve. I figured, if you’re going to roll the dice, might as well roll big…

The rest, as they say, is history–despite my total flubbing of our first Valentines Day. I was away at a conference in Boston, it was early on in our relationship, and I was at a loss. So, I did the worst possible thing–I made a card that said: “You’re special. That about says it all.” I put it aside to give to her when I returned.

Maybe it was because I wasn’t ready yet to completely open the door to somebody. Maybe it was because I couldn’t figure out how someone could actually be interested in me romantically, what with all the baggage I was carrying around (2 kids, a contentious ex-wife, a subterranean two bedroom apartment with the “living room” serving as a computer test lab…you know, the usual). Whatever it was, I was obviously subconsciously hedging my bets.

She , on the other hand, also made a card, which she had painted by hand, and Fed-Ex’d it to my hotel.

So I felt even more lame when I gave her the card I had made when I got back to Baltimore. That she didn’t leave me then and there says a lot. She does occasionally remind me of that card, though.

Last night, as I was negotiating conditions for our daughter to go to sleep, Paula again made me an original Valentine–a bowl full of paper hearts, each enscribed with a reason she loves me. When I got up to take the boys to their chorus practice before school this morning, she told me that there was a special bowl of cereal waiting for me on the table.

She also got me a 120 gigabyte external hard drive for my Mac.

I’ve made her a card this year, too. But it isn’t nearly as lame as the first one.The only reservations it comes with are for dinner at Petit Louis.